


28th Batch

by Cyberrat



Series: Fic Batches [28]
Category: Dream Daddy: A Dad Dating Simulator, Klaus (2019), My Time At Portia (Video Game), Overwatch (Video Game), 僕のヒーローアカデミア | Boku no Hero Academia | My Hero Academia
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Cock & Ball Torture, Cuckolding, Edging, Foot Fetish, Hurt/Comfort, Knotting, M/M, Past Abuse, Pregnant Sex, Rape/Non-con Elements, Size Difference, Sweat, Tentacle Sex, Watersports, belly bulge
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-11
Updated: 2019-11-28
Packaged: 2021-01-27 13:47:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 14
Words: 17,588
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21393184
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cyberrat/pseuds/Cyberrat
Summary: 28th Batch of my fics
Relationships: Bakugou Katsuki/Kirishima Eijirou/Midoriya Izuku, Builder/Gust (My Time At Portia), Craig Cahn/Hugo Vega/Mat Sella, Doomfist: The Successor | Akande Ogundimu/Lúcio Correia dos Santos, Jesper Johanssen/Klaus, Jesse McCree/Hanzo Shimada, Jesse McCree/Reaper | Gabriel Reyes/Soldier: 76 | Jack Morrison
Series: Fic Batches [28]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1268996
Comments: 5
Kudos: 232





	1. Bakugo/Deku/Kirishima

**Author's Note:**

> Bakugo/Kirishima/Deku – omega!Bakugo; Alphas!Kirishima/Deku; Bakugo being borderline abusive as always; Deku being a closeted freak in the sheets (Footplay) – Bakugo hates pre-heats, but his Alphas know how to handle him.

“Fuuuuuck, get _off_ of me!” Bakugo kicks out with one leg in the general direction of Deku who had been trying to wrap him into a blanket.

Deku, because he is a brainless idiot, almost breaks out in tears.

“But… but Kacchan, it is important that you don’t grow cold during your…”

“I’m going into fucking _heat_, you dipshit! I’m not gonna be cold! Holy _fuck_, why am I cursed with a couple shit-for-brains Alphas!”

Deku and Kirishima take Bakugo’s colorful complaints in stride. They are used to his vocabulary and the temperamental way he likes to throw it around himself. It’s not _okay_, but it is simply _him_.

Kirishima claps Deku on the back with one hand and takes the blanket out of his lax fingers with the other.

“Don’t worry, man. He’ll come whining soon enough if he’s cold.”

A vein swells at Bakugo’s forehead, but his tirade about never going to ‘fucking whine you goddam-’ is being ignored by both Alphas as Deku nods dejectedly and leans into Kirishima.

A pre-heating Bakugo is, surprisingly enough, an even more volatile creature than a regular Bakugo.

He hates how pre-heat makes him soft and sweaty like through an actual heat but without the nice way it gets his brain mushy so he doesn’t have to actively think about how embarrassing it is to have one or both of his Alphas looking after him during the time.

Worst of all, it gets him… susceptible.

As Deku leans into Kirishima and gets comforted for being a _goddamn fucking idiot_, he starts exuding the most damnably addictive kind of scent.

“Holy shit… stop that,” Bakugo groans. He takes a pillow and presses it across his face. He’d rather do anything else but lie here and smell those dipshits commiserating with each other (while _he_ is the one having to go through all this hassle… the _nerve_ of those Alphas), but… well. His body is not necessarily obeying him at the moment.

“Sorry, Kacchan,” Deku murmurs sheepishly, but he also doesn’t stop exuding that soft Alpha smell that only he seems to be able to exude. He smells softer than some Omegas Bakugo knows. It’s stupid how soft and malleable that gets him.

“Jus’ leave me alone,” he slurs, the fire already extinguished. His body is sluggish and so so warm. He hates how helpless it makes him. He hates how he is second-guessing all his reactions to his Alphas that are natural (he goddamn knows that) but that he doesn’t _want_ to be natural. He doesn’t want to have it hard-wired into his brain to go mushy and stupid when Kirishima grins at him roguishly, or when Deku starts smelling like that at the slightest bit of praise.

“We’ll leave you alone later,” Kirishima promises him. He knows that means ‘after everything is over with’ but he still relaxes, feeling like his order is being followed through.

“Aight…” he mutters against the pillow. With it on his face everything is getting ten times hotter, so he pushes it away again. His gaze is a bit hazy and he blinks once, twice, but it does not clear up again. His Alphas are two specs at the end of his bed: one green, one red.

“Hmmm Kacchan… you smell really good,” Deku croons. Bakugo wants to tell him that ‘of fucking course he is smelling good’, but nothing other than a little groan comes out.

The specs begin to move closer until he can see them clearly again. They’re grinning at him and Bakugo can’t help but start kicking at the thin blanket Deku had wrapped him in earlier. He paws at his shirt, pulling it up somewhat, sloppily showing off his belly to his Alphas.

They don’t say anything, wisely, but he can hear Kirishima gently coo as he leans down, and then softly bites Bakugo’s side. The sensation of the sharp points of Kirishima’s razor sharp teeth just carefully gnawing at him has spikes of sensation going through his body. There is no real target; just them lancing through his lethargic limbs and making it feel almost painful.

He hates how Alphas can make him feel this way. How he is nothing but their toy a few times a year.

He never quite catches just how attuned Kirishima and Deku are to his every move and every sound. They watch him intently, dancing around their Omega attentively, ready to give him whatever he might want.

It’s probably better Bakugo has no idea about the power he wields over the both of them. It might end poorly.

Kirishima keeps gnawing on him. He is careful yet still leaves red imprints and scratches in his wake that have their Omega whining and trying to get naked with sloppy, uncoordinated movements. All Bakugo manages is showing off one pec; plump and delicious looking.

Deku helps him out of his clothes. He starts with Bakugo’s socks which has the Omega snarling, but he catches his weakly kicking leg and just gently tucks it beneath his arm so he can better push the thick socks off his feet.

He then leans in, and, because Deku is a freak, nuzzles and kisses the top of Bakugo’s foot.

Heat flushes all throughout his body. Embarrassment, of course. Nothing else.

Bakugo wants to curse and spit profanities, but all he can manage is a weak howl. His other sock follows.

While Deku presses open-mouthed kisses against his foot, his tongue coming out increasingly more often, Kirishima is sliding his big cool hands beneath Bakugo’s pullover and pushes it up until it is finally off.

He groans in elation at the cool air hitting his overheated skin.

“Tha…” he slurs, going all soft as Deku begins suckling on his big toe. Pleasure zings through him. Bakugo’s body arches and trembles.

Kirishima grins at him, showing off his sharp, jagged teeth.

“No problem. No need for thanks,” he assures him, carding fingers through Bakugo’s spiky hair as if trying to get some semblance of order into them.

Bakugo’s pants are starting to cling uncomfortably to him. They’re warm but wet with slick.

The Alphas must be able to smell him. They don’t let themselves get rushed, though. Deku drags a slippery tongue between two of Bakugo’s toes, and Bakugo sobs, pressing an uncoordinated hand across his eyes and slapping himself in the process. He doesn’t want to get this turned on by Deku being a weirdo freak but his body is singing for them.

Kirishima’s head is at his chest, big hands pressing his pecs together and kneading them as he sucks one of his nipples into his mouth. The edge of a tooth presses into his tender skin just-so.

Bakugo sobs as he comes into his pants. His ears are red hot, practically glowing in his embarrassment as his body weakly undulates, dragging his slippery crown against the fabric of his sweats.

When he calms down, all he can hear is the heavy, deep breathing of his Alphas, watching him intently with eyes gone dark and predatory.

Deku blinks slowly, trying to claw back from that edge of going feral. He smiles trembling but proud.

“You feel better now, Kacchan?”

Bakugo bites his bottom lip hard, not looking at either of them, but his body an open, satisfied book.

“Yeah…”

“Hmm… you looked so manly just now… Are you ready for a second round?”

Bakugo nods slowly, thoughts starting to slip into that delicious daze that lets him enjoy and not overthink everything.


	2. Hugo/Mat/Craig

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hugo/Mat/Craig – Dream Daddy – armpit kink; sniff kink; sweat kink – In which Mat is me and just thirsting for two hunks wrestling until he stops being me because they actually fulfill his dreams.
> 
> (got a bit carried away with Mat just pining... sowwy)

Mat is pressing his hands before his face, trying not to stare into the direction of the vigorous grunting. He can’t believe that this is happening, though he should have expected it. This whole… thing had been a long time in the making.

Brian had laughed and Robert had muttered a disgusted ‘finally’ when Craig and Hugo emerged from Craig’s modern little house wearing tight and all-too-revealing wrestling spandex.

This thing had been four potlucks in the making, and Mat doesn’t know why he’s even agreed to come to this one. It had been obvious. Craig can be a pushy little shit if he sees an opportunity to work out, and Hugo is too good-natured to put up much of a resistance. It had already looked like he was going to die of embarrassment when Craig had accidentally walked into his wrestling memorabilia room (which… honestly? Mat can _relate_. He routinely fantasizes about just vanishing into the earth after saying some stupid shit to one of his customers).

But of course he had come anyway. He likes to think that it was just loneliness driving him into the open maw of ‘dear God please no’, but in the end he has to accept that it wasn’t loneliness so much as desperate horniness that had led to him sitting there and peeking through his fingers as Craig and Hugo roll through the grass, grunting and grappling in the afternoon sun.

Brian is gone already. Robert, too (pilfering a sixpack of beers). Their children are nowhere to be seen. It’s just the three of them in Craig’s backyard with some leftover casserole and salads, and what looks like Hugo humping their host as he tries to keep him pinned to the ground.

Mat feels himself going hot all over. This is… indecent. They’re right in the middle of Craig’s yard. Any of the surrounding neighbours could just peek over the fence and get an eyeful of what definitely looks like two grown men dry humping each other.

Only that there is nothing dry about the whole thing. Sweat is flying in a thin, glistening spray whenever Hugo throws his head back and it gets flung off of the tips of his slightly too long hair.

There are large dark circles beneath their pits. There are more stains starting to form along the creases of their asses. Mat stares between his pointer and middle finger as he can see _exactly where_ Hugo’s balls are sitting, big and full and potent, because there is more sweat forming along his taint.

Mat squirms on the spot. He reaches out with a trembling hand and curls it around a slowly warming bottle of beer. He should just… quietly make his leave. He should get home, make sure his daughter is safe and sound, and then spend a few glorious minutes in the bathroom, replaying what he’s seen here, and jerking off quietly into the toilet.

But his limbs do not want to move. He’s just sitting there, staring at the spectacle, and making a soft, high-pitched sound when Craig manages to twist his way out from beneath Hugo’s bigger bulk to instead lock his head up beneath his arm.

Mat is not sure what sound he makes at the sight of that, but it is loud and weird enough to make both of them pause and turn to look at him.

At him, sitting there, sporting a very huge and very obvious erection, throbbing against the front of his skinny jeans and letting him reconsider the whole fashion aspect of his wardrobe that Carmensita has managed to talk him into.

“Uh… hey there…” Craig says, slowly letting Hugo out of the headlock. Mat really wanted to be in there. Close and personal with the dark, wet hair he can see in Craig’s armpit. “Everything alright there, pal?”

No. No, nothing is alright. Mat is sitting in his neighbours backyard, sporting a tentpole of an erection, and both of those very sexy very sweaty men are staring at it with a kind of dumbfounded wonderment.

Mat wants to die. Mat wants the ground to open up and swallow him whole. He could goddamn _cry_.

They stand up and move. Hugo looks sheepish, as he usually does when he is not gone off on a tangent over cheeses or history or whatever-have-you. Mat had felt pretty good, talking to him. They both had a tendency to ramble if they got flustered.

Seems like he now won’t ever be able to talk to him again because Mat has to pack up shop and just… move out of the country or something so he’ll never have to face the utter humiliation of this whole thing again.

“Hey there… you look like you’ve seen a ghost… no need to worry, pal, alright? It’s just us, after all. Just a buncha bros being dudes…” Craig is talking, voice pitched low in what Mat recognizes instantly as the ‘father voice’ because he’s used it a ton of times when Carmensita had been small and woken up by nightmares.

Craig reaches out for him and grabs his shoulder, squeezing it.

“Just a couple dudes being pals. Just a few guys being dads, alright? No harm done. No foul…” Mat finds himself nodding along. His ears and cheeks throb with all the blood that’s gathered there. He feels like he could spontaneously combust.

They’re so close, almost bracketing him from both sides. He can _smell_ them, and it is… it’s really, really good.

He has no idea how there can be enough blood in his body to give him this raging erection and still make him feel like his head is going to explode with how embarrassed he is.

And then suddenly Craig’s very understanding, very gentle face creases into the broadest, most mischievous grin Mat had ever seen. His hand tightens on Mat’s shoulder, and he is wrenched forward and right against Craig’s wet ribcage beneath his arm.

“Let the party get started!” He hears over his muffled protests as he flails and tries to push away, but Hugo is there as well suddenly, _helping along_.

Mat’s heart is racing like a rabbit but he can’t do anything about all of this. Hugo is murmuring at him low and soothing while simultaneously starting to pop open the buttons of his pants and starting to drag them down.

There is a rush of inexpressible relieve when his cock finally springs out of the tight confines.

He is choking on the salty, thick stench of Craig’s armpit. He struggles and tries to twist away… and then he isn’t anymore. Oh God… Oh dear… he’s wanted this for _so effing long_...

He groans and stops defending himself against them. Craig is cackling above him like a highschool jock, gently petting his head and rubbing his shoulders.

“There you go! Everything is gonna be fine!”

They switch up places. They have Mat right in the middle of their potluck, right in the middle of Craig’s backyard, fingering him open and spreading him wide for Craig’s dick while Hugo is kneeling in front of him and letting him huff the sweat of his pits.

They’re going to destroy him on their dicks. He is going to huff them until he is on the verge of blacking out, and they’ll just keep using him, nudging their cocks into his body and riding him like he’s been needing it for weeks now. Months. Years. Since Rosa’s death.

Mat gets his tongue out and drags it against Hugo’s wet armpit, and behind him, Craig curses very PG while popping the head of his cock into Mat’s clenching little hole.

“That’s it… just… just dudes being bros… Like that taste? You can get a lot more of that…”


	3. McCree/Reaper/Soldier76

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> McR76 – continuation B21F1 – reverse cuckold; big dick Jesse; useless dick Jesse???; orgasm denial/edging – Oh Jesse, you rascal :)

McCree is 27 and he still fucks like a 20 year old. Gabriel thinks that this is quite… uh… something. He’s never met anyone that is so consistently bad at fucking, but he also can’t quite say that he minds, particularly.

There is something uniquely fascinating about getting folded in half by Jesse’s big hands, staring up at him through one’s knees, and knowing without a doubt that he’ll get you good and horny but will never even come close to getting you _off_.

It is a shame. A damn, big shame. Jesse has filled out so nicely over the years; gone big and broad and hairy. He looks sturdy; like Gabriel can put him down and ride his big dick for hours without grinding his hipbones to dust, but whenever he tries, the big baby starts whining just after a good half hour.

It’s a shame and frustrating but also… well. Gabriel just _likes_ it. He likes seeing how confident Jesse is all the time, just swaggering about, making others think he had even an inkling of how to use that big useless dick of his.

He likes pulling him back into his rooms and letting Jesse have at it and being able to see in the exact shade of his dull flush just how close he is to shooting his load again – way too fast, of course.

He likes how Jesse leaves him hot and wanting and so horny he could crawl up the walls, waiting in anticipation for Jack to finally come back and scratch that itch that Jesse has left with his dumb big dick and overeager puppy energy.

It’s impossible, of course, that Jesse would stay this inept at fucking for this long. Gabriel knows, somewhere inside, that he must be holding back and just pretending to be the worst stud ever… and when he’s in a very philosophical mood he finds himself wondering if that doesn’t make Jesse into the best lover, in a way. He knows that Gabriel gets off on his inability to make him come.

The kid even seems to actively enjoy it. No matter how often Gabriel insults him; tells him how bad he is at using his dick; that it is a complete loss that someone like him should have a dick that big… Jesse just keeps on fucking and whining and sweating and takes it all in stride.

He’s… a good soldier.

“Use your mouth at least… holy shit…” Gabriel feels like he is going to claw his way out of his own skin. Jesse had never managed to come _this_ close to making him come, and his toes are prickling where they’re hanging in the air. Jesse has easily manipulated him until his ass was up high, only his shoulders on the bed, piledriving into him until Gabriel felt like he was going to choke on his own spit.

He’s never been this close with Jesse. Never. There’s a sweet little ache in his chest and belly. He doesn’t want to come with Jesse; he wants him to stay a stupid little pup with a stupid big dick, but he’s still whining for more, even as thick, frothy cum bubbles from his used hole.

Jesse grunts and pulls back some, kneeling down on the bed and still keeping Gabriel in the awkward position, making his legs flail as he tries to kick at him.

“At least use your mouth!” Gabriel says again, but it is more a sob. “M-My husband’s comin’ soon…”

Jesse groans. He likes when Gabriel sounds like a naughty housewife. He likes being the side piece and having to run and hide whenever Jack suddenly sends a very calculated message about coming home earlier this day.

Kneeling, with Gabriel still in the awkward position, his head is quite neatly on height of his ass.

“I can try,” he says. God, his voice… why is everything so _delicious_ with this kid? Gabriel is panting like a dog. His cock is an overstuffed sausage dangling above his face. He can see how wet his tip has gotten; how yet another bit of pre is starting to bubble up on the slit until a long string is slowly dripping down and onto his own chin.

Jesse’s big rough hands grab Gabriel’s asscheeks and pull them apart. There’s a lewd smacking sound when his fucked out hole opens up again in the mess of cum Jesse has left inside him.

“Quick, quick, quick…” Gabriel whispers heatedly. His toes are prickling. He curls them again and again but it is not helping. The heat Jesse has put into his belly is not abating. He’s teetering right on the edge of orgasm and Jesse is just not pushing him over.

Which is to be expected.

“Yeah, yeah… sure.” Jesse’s deep voice is slow and easy. He sounds fucked-out because he got to pump Gabriel full all the while Gabriel has to sit there, strung tight as a wire, waiting for the bubble to just finally _pop_.

Jesse keeps him spread wide with his hands, and then dives right in. His beard is unkempt and scratchy, but Gabriel feels like he is seeing stars in that moment. Jesse licks at him slow and unhurried, slurping his own cum from Gabriel’s ass like it is a treat.

He goes at this like he goes about all the chores Gabriel puts on him: infuriatingly slow and with just enough charme that Gabriel can’t make himself kill him.

Jesse is tonguing at him obscenely, playing with Gabriel’s swollen, puffy rim, and humming lightly.

“You ‘boutta come?” he asks with the same hopeful infliction to his voice that he’s had since he’s been twenty. The same goddamn question with the same goddamn answer every goddamn time.

“No!” Gabriel sobs it this time. He can’t believe this shit. He is pressing his hands to his face because he doesn’t want to reach for his dick and help himself over that little bump in the road; it’s not how these things go.

Jesse makes a sound, but it weirdly sounds… pleased.

He is just in the middle of sloppily fucking his tongue into Gabriel’s hole, when there is the sound of the door to his rooms swishing open.

“Aw heck,” Jesse says, but he is grinning. The imbecile is sitting there, beard wet with his own cum and spit from eating Gabriel out, and is grinning at him with his crooked teeth and that endearing goddamn way he has.

And then he is off and gone into that closet they still got. The one they positioned in a way that will let him see everything that is going on in the bedroom.

Jack pretends like there’s nothing out of the ordinary. Gabriel is sweaty and panting and the space between his cheeks is messy and wet, but he comes close and kisses him like he doesn’t still smell Jesse’s aftershave in the air.

Later, Gabriel will pause when he sees Jesse swagger down a hallway or flirt with one of the other recruits.

There is just no way someone can stay this inept for this long.

He wonders if Jesse is actually… playing him.

Jesse turns and spots him and grins broad and lazy before giving him a lazy salute.

This fucker.


	4. McCree/Hanzo

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> McCree/Hanzo – continuation of compilation 3 fic 1 (go to my tumblr under the name cyberrat to find out where to read it) – Jesse is Hanzo’s boy toy. Hanzo loves how dirty and hairy and sweaty he is. Jesse fucks him in front of a window and lets him sniff on his jockstrap... which is where this fic continues.

Hanzo is holding Jesse’s jockstrap with a trembling hand against his face. His eyes are clenched shut tightly so he does not have to see his reflection in the dark glass of the window.

He can’t look at himself huffing this boy’s sweaty jockstrap while Jesse is standing behind him and typing away on his phone, only occasionally giving a lazy, half-assed thrust to keep Hanzo interested in the things that are happening to him.

This is all… this is all quite preposterous. This can’t… happen. But it is. His mouth is open so he can pull the salty tang of Jesse McCree’s sweatycock and balls onto his palate. He tries to imagine all those hunky young men post football practice, strutting around the changing rooms, showing off their hairy, thick bodies…

He tries to imagine Jesse in the middle of them, just as shameless as the rest, probably scratching his sac or making his… his junk _jiggle_ just so someone can have a laugh.

Hanzo feels himself flush with the sheer audacity of this imagined Jesse. He is flustered on behalf of something that has never happened… not to his knowledge.

He is hopeless. Absolutely hopeless.

His phone is ringing; probably his secretary; but when he jerks up with a grunt, eyes blinking open deliriously, Jesse’s big hand is right there between his shoulder blades, pressing him back down.

“Stay where y’are,” he drawls. He is in an easy one-armed press above Hanzo, making him bear all of his weight while his head is turned towards his phone, typing away easily. Hanzo can see it all in the reflection of the mirror he is being fucked in front of. He can see the dark street beyond, only illuminated by a few street lamps.

He is… he is twenty years Jesse’s senior. He shouldn’t be… he can’t be relegated like this. He wants to argue, prim and proper that if Jesse is allowed to be on his phone, the same should hold true for him. It is, after all, fair.

But it is difficult to think anything much when Jesse is balls deep inside him, his massive meaty cock rubbing into spots that make stars explode in front of Hanzo’s eyes and have him wheezing pathetically beneath the weight that Jesse puts on him.

“Hey,” Jesse says suddenly, and he can see the bushy brows in the reflection pull together into a frown. “You’re not moving! The heck, man? I’m not doin’ all the work! Get to it!”

He should be. He should be doing all the work because Hanzo is _paying_ him to do it. He will get his wallet out later and tuck a few hundred bucks into Jesse’s front pocket because he’s said he needs more for books, and because he’s been nice and fucked Hanzo until his brain short circuited and all those delicious endorphins flooded his system…

Hanzo gets to moving. He can’t, really, because he is being pinned like a butterfly to the couch, but he still tries to squeeze down on the massive cock spreading him open and giving it some kind of inept massage.

He never did put effort into learning how to pleasure a dick above going down on his back and spreading his legs. It always seemed to be too much effort; but now he wishes he had pulled a few study hours in the library to instead push them into extracurricular activities.

At least it led him to a position where he can throw money around to get what he wants. Mostly. If only Jesse wasn’t such a lazy bastard and would do his goddamn _job_ instead of texting who-knew-whom and just keeping Hanzo speared on his cock as if that was alone to satisfy him.

(It… kind of is.)

Eventually, Jesse groans and hangs his head.

“Holy shit, why are you so bad at this? Can’t a guy secure what to do with the boys after dicking you?”

Hanzo catches himself in the process of saying sorry to this ill-tempered child. He’d love to say that he is the one stopping himself and coming to his senses, but the truth is that _Jesse_ is the one interrupting him; already having stopped paying attention.

“Hey, yeah. Let’s just talk for a sec. I’m in the middle of work and my boss is about to freak out.”

Hanzo gapes at the reflection that shows Jesse with his phone now pressed to his ear, talking to one of his friends while he rightens himself up and looks down between them to see how Hanzo’s hole stretches around his cock.

His eyes flick up and look at Hanzo through the reflection suddenly. He gives a sharp thrust that has Hanzo’s eyes rolling up into his head when it drags against all those greedy places.

“Huh? Yeah. You know how he is. Prissy dude with a stick up his ass.”

Hanzo feels hot and cold, listening to Jesse talk so casually about him while starting up a slow rhythm of fucking once again. It’s… good. It’s really good. He fumbles with the smelly jockstrap and presses it to his nose again.

He closes his eyes as he inhales deeply the aroma wafting out of it while his… boytoy fucks him leisurely from behind, rocking him against the side of his couch and making it feel like lights are flaring up all inside his body.

A car drives by outside. Hanzo stares at it owlishly as he chews on the fabric of the jockstrap. he wonders if they have looked inside. If they have seen a Japanese man, going grey at the temples and with wrinkles appearing in his face, sucking on a sweaty jockstrap as a man less than half his age is railing him from behind.

His insides clench around Jesse’s big dick, and his voice hitches briefly as he talks with one of his friends, trying to figure out which movie they are going to watch after Jesse got ‘off his shift’.

Jesse is going to get off. That’s a sure thing.

His big hand comes down on Hanzo’s ass, slapping him harshly, then again and again, making him bounce like a rabbit with its hind legs caught.

“Huh? Yeah, yeah… just started on dinner. The old man wants some steak tonight. Gotta tenderize the meat, y’know?”

His palm comes down in a vicious slap against Hanzo’s thigh, and he howls into the strap as he comes like a freight train, cock jerking and spitting cream against the impossibly expensive leather of his couch.

Jesse doesn’t care. He just keeps fucking him, slow and easy, a sawing motion that has Hanzo go cross-eyed while he lays across the armrest limp and fucked-out.

Jesse pulls out at the last second. He’s finished his call and is jerking his cock off in thick pulsing arcs over Hanzo’s back. He then makes him stumble into his bedroom to get his wallet while he quickly slips into his clothes. The movie is to begin soon.

Hanzo gives him extra so he can buy all his friends some snacks. He pushes the money into his fist while this jock’s cum is dripping down his back.

“Next week?” he croaks and Jesse grins and gives him a quick peck on the cheek.

“Sure thing, boss!”


	5. Soldier76/?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Soldier76/? – werehorse; rape tw; massive insertion; knotting; farmer!Jack – His animals were out of their mind with fear so he had to see what was going on.
> 
> (we just pretend like preparation and ruptures are not... things lol)

The past Summer days had been nice and warm, and Jack had decided to let his cows stay outside to let them enjoy the nightly breeze, but their terrified cries had woken him up from a restless sleep.

He’s jumped out of bed, peering outside, seeing them basically piled outside the door to their bar, trying their best to break it down to get back inside.

“What the…?!”

He’s run down just as he were, barely feeling the sharp little stones outside digging into the soles of his feet as he’s made his way into the barn. 

He has to jump out of the way when the whole herd tramples its way inside, the poor bastards crowding into the back of the space, eerily silent now that they are where they wanted to be.

Goosebumps break out all over Jack’s body. The night is nowhere near cold, but he is only wearing a pair of shorts, and he’s never seen his cows behave this way before. None of his dogs are making a sound. He wonders where they are; they don’t come when he whistles as he starts to close the door while peering out over the field.

There are just single trees dotted here and there all on their lonesome. There is nothing to see; it is a very assessable space. Still, the feeling of… wrongness does not want to leave him. He doesn’t realize how his breath is coming in sharp little pants until he is feeling a little bit lightheaded. He presses a fist to his chest, making himself breathe in.

A whine and whimper to his right have him jerk around. There, in the darkness, his two dogs are cowering, their big eyes glinting just-so in the shadows they have hidden themselves away in.

Jack’s head begins to ache, and he has to consciously loosen his jaw which he has clenched way too tightly. He peers out of the almost closed door once more and his heart skips a beat when he sees it: a shadow next to one of the trees; huge and inhuman.

He digs his short nails into the slightly soft wood of the door. He stares and stares, but the shadow does neither move nor vanish. He blinks several times. It is still there.

His dogs yap, making him whirl towards them and hiss a ‘shhh’, and when he turns back to the crack to peer outside he almost jumps out of his skin. The shadow is much, _much_ closer all of a sudden.

He hasn’t heard a damn thing. How is that even possible?

As he watches, the thing moves, and finally the waving contours and strange appearance make a lot more sense. It is a horse. What is a horse doing here? There are no wild ones anywhere near his farm… has it gotten lost?

He pushes the door open, and the dogs bark shrill in warning, but it is too late. He steps outside, and the door to the barn closes behind him. The horse is suddenly a lot closer. Close enough to feel its sulfurous breath against his skin.

It has huge white eyes. He doesn’t know how he hasn’t noticed them before. They are unnatural. Is it blind? But… he is sure it can see him.

He wants to move slightly, but the horse growls. It… it _growls_. It lifts its head and bares its teeth at him. They’re very big and very _sharp._ The canines are long and wickedly curved. His heart is beating so goddamn fast… He thinks he is going to get sick.

“What the fuck…” Jack whispers, standing pressed against the closed door of his barn, watching the horse advance on him until it can blow its hellish hot breath right against his ear.

It’s coat looks to be a perfect pitch black, if a little long. It’s shaggy like a… a wolf or something. What kind of demon horse is this?

It moves. It is sniffing on him, advancing, pushing him along the wall of the barn until it finally gets its muzzle behind his shoulder and jostles him around.

He sees a flash of something other than the pitch black that seems to make up the creature as a whole in the moment he gets flipped: its long, pink cock hanging heavy beneath its belly.

Jack’s head is pounding too hard. He can’t form a coherent thought.

In the barn, the dogs are barking shrill and panicked.

.o.

It’s fur is soft as it drags across his back.

The night is not cold, so the heat generated by the friction and the warmth radiating off of the massive body above Jack is enough to have sweat dripping from the tip of his nose.

It’s difficult to breathe in the thick humid heat, or with the way he is being carved out like some kind of fruit on the horse’s cock. All Jack can do is pant in sharp little breaths like a little animal. His knees are shaking wildly but they haven’t given out on him yet. He wonders why that is. Why he isn’t simply dropping down and away from getting stuffed and stuffed and stuffed and stuffed and _stuffed_ with cock.

He feels like the fat horse dick is filling out his everything. Like it has to push up behind his eyes until they pop out of his head.

His hole is spread wide and burning, having capitulated laughably easy to the blunt, flared tip as it knocked for entry almost like a polite guest.

_Hey, how do you do? I’m a demon horse. Please let me in?_

_Yes, of course, it is my pleasure-fuck that’s a big goddamn dick you got on you, huh?_

His head is hanging between his biceps. He can feel tears itching his eyes, but they don’t fall.

It is moving deeper inside; a hot impossibly long brand that seems to burn through his middle. He is sure it could lift him around on its dick right now. Just use him like a living toy.

It is grunting above him; growling; making all kinds of sounds a horse should not be able to do. He’s pretty sure, at least. If he were to lift his head he could see its muzzle hanging far over the fence it is railing him on. It’s huge sharp teeth glinting in the slowly rising sun.

When it knots him like a dog, there is not even any surprise left to be had. He just thinks laconically ‘of course’ as something fat pops inside his hole, already wrenched open farther than he thought was possible.

It pulses and swells and locks them together. The horse groans, and its cock flexes hard enough that Jack swears – _swears!_ – that his feet are briefly lifted up from the ground.

It starts to pump. It is like being filled with a hot cum enema. Tears finally start falling after all; just quietly rolling down his cheeks and dripping from the point of his chin. His own cock is… hard. Hard. So goddamn hard.

He is going insane. He is losing his mind.

He is shooting his load into the ground like he’s pissing, groaning long and hard, whole body contracting around the demon horse cock that is filling him up until he feels like a bloated balloon.

Everything becomes blessedly still for a few moments then. Just the two of them breathing and gasping.

The sun peeks over a little hill and begins to illuminate the field.

The horse atop him begins to… shift.


	6. Reaper/Bob + McCree

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reaper/Bob + McCree – rape tw; massive insertion/belly bulge; deadlock gang – Gabriel has been caught.

“Hey there… you’re havin’ a grand ol’ time in there all by your lonesome, I can see,” Jesse drawls after kicking his way into what Deadlock calls the ‘detainment area’.

Gabriel himself calls it a shitty old-timey prison. It is a simple house they have put some heavy metal bars in to bisect it in half. He is on one half and his guards on the other. He’s already scouted it out in his first hour in there, finding about a dozen ways to get out if he gets bored, but for now he is happy to stay put and just wait how things turn out.

He’s been long overdue for a vacation anyway.

Gabriel is lying on the thin, wooden cot they have in there, and glances up at Jesse. He does not answer but he does reach down and shoves his sweat stained undershirt up a tad to scratch his belly.

McCree is still young, just like all the other Deadlock bosses. He can see him quietly bristle at the blatant show of disrespect, but the kid overplays it by grinning around the stem of a lollipop and then letting himself fall into the groaning chair of the guard that had left some five minutes earlier.

Gabriel sits up and watches him with mild interest, then briefly looks over to the huge Omnic that had lumbered its way in after McCree, daintily closing the ill-fitting door behind them.

The Omnic’s small green LED eyes look back at Gabriel with what he thinks is calm patience.

“I thought,” McCree drawls, drawing Gabriel’s attention back to him, “that I could pay you a little visit and brighten your day.”

Gabriel rolls his eyes. What a child. He sighs and sits up to have a better look at his captor. It is damn humiliating that these kids had been able to find him out. Yet then again, it had been the fault of the recruit contacting him grossly out of hours. They will have to have a word about that when he is back…

“...but I think Bob will suffice.”

Gabriel frowns, staring at McCree. He hasn’t really listened to him, but is now glancing towards the huge Omnic when McCree points to him with a laconic gesture that just barely manages to contain the obvious delight he feels.

McCree just likes to hear himself talk. A lot. It is a damn shame that the kid’s voice is so nice, too.

When Gabriel just mutely stares (as he hasn’t listened and doesn’t know if he should answer to anything), McCree’s face twists in annoyance. He impatiently snaps his fingers a few times, and the Omnic suddenly moves.

Gabriel frowns, watching as the huge bodyguard-slash-butler moves towards the door of his cell.

He hasn’t had much encounters with the Omnic called Bob, but what he knows is that he is impossibly obedient to his masters’ every whim. He also knows that he isn’t cruel without reason; at least he hopes that he knows it.

He still can’t help but hurriedly get up off his cot when the Omnic somehow manages to artfully fold his huge body together to fit through the normal sized door before very gently closing it behind himself again.

As Gabriel stands and watches uneasily, McCree gets himself situated more comfortably. He stretches his long legs out and takes his hat off, placing it on the desk next to him and ruffling his own unwashed hair while grinning at Gabriel with slightly crooked, yellowed teeth. He’s a handsome young man but obviously also isn’t a poster child for personal hygiene.

Bob, in a macabre imitation of the human, also reaches up and plucks the little bowler off his head.

He turns and looks about the cell until he spots a lone nail in the wall and goes to very carefully hang his hat there. The Omnic is almost unbearably quaint. Gabriel finds himself smiling incredulously right up to the point that Bob turns back to him and his huge frying pan sized hands begin to work at the latches of his biker pants.

“Woah, woah, woah,” he says quickly, lifting his hands and looking from Bob to McCree. “What’s that now? That’s not Deadlock’s style…”

McCree shrugs while Bob pulls out the biggest goddamn metal cock that Gabriel has ever seen.

“Maybe not… but it’s kinda my style. You’re so high an’ mighty, I jus’ wanna see whatcha look like when you got a belly fulla dick.”

Bob takes a step towards him, and Gabriel takes a step back, eyes on the massive metal cock swinging between the Omnic’s thighs.

But there is nowhere to run in the cell he is in.

.o.

He’s never been a living fleshlight, but Gabriel is quite sure this is what it feels like.

Bob’s arms are around him, holding him up like a battering ram and letting him brace himself against the bars of his jail while his legs kick uselessly. Every now and then he can touch the ground but there is not enough leverage to do anything, really.

McCree is outside, watching, cock in his fist, but he can’t make himself pay any attention to his whatever he’s lazily drawling because his whole word has shrunken in to the massive dick filling out his everything.

There is slick dripping down in copious amounts; drips falling onto the dusty floor between their feet as Bob keeps producing and pumping out lubricant between the different segments that make up his cock.

Gabriel should have maybe been thankful that the Omnic has used enough lube to make him feel like it is gurgling inside his belly, but the truth of the matter is that he feels like his hole is being fucked on a massive fist.

There is a persistent, annoying whistling in his ears.

The tip of the Omnic’s cock had been broad but slender in comparison to the fat shaft. The more he squeezes into Gabriel’s body, the louder the whistling becomes as he is forced open slow and insistent.

McCree is jerking his cock to the sight of it, eyes alight with malicious glee as he watches Gabriel clutching at the bars of the cell as he gets fucked by the hulking Omnic.

Bob is not making any sound at all. Gabriel is not sure he’s ever heard him make so much as a peep. Only the soft whirring of the bits and pieces that make up the inside of the Omnic’s body is filling the space alongside the squelch of his cock pumping out more slick while drilling into him.

Whenever Bob pushes deeper, he can feel his belly distending and his eyes roll up into his head. His body is hot and confused, unsure whether it likes what is happening or not, and Gabriel grits his teeth to not make a sound.

When he squints one eye open to stare at McCree, he forces his mouth into a grimacing grin. 

Oh, he’ll get the boy. He’ll make him pay.

Nobody fucks Gabriel Reyes over.


	7. Reaper/Soldier76

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gabriel/Soldier76 – kind of continuation of last fill – past rape/abuse; hurt/comfort; magic healing dick; masturbation – Jack helps Gabriel through it.

Jack had read the report, but it is difficult to connect the words on the paper with his headstrong partner in the medical bay.

Gabriel is as gruff and no-nonsense as usual, already asking for when he will be released for active duty. It does not fall in line with Jack’s understanding of, as it had been formulated, ‘_repeated sexual assault by Omnic and human alike_’.

His skin crawls whenever he thinks of those words. It is too much information and simultaneously too little.

He’s there, of course, when Gabriel gets released from the medical ward with the orders to take it easy and to first get a psych evaluation before anybody would even think about clearing him for duty again.

Gabriel grins and mutters a good-natured insult at the Doctor, but Jack can see the tightness around his eyes, and how his grin is a bit too sharp and with a few too many teeth.

He claps his hand on Gabriel’s shoulder, feeling the minute twitch of thick muscles that want to react in a heartbeat but are wrestled down into submission. Gabriel’s head swings around towards him and his sharp-toothed smile softens into something more melancholic and tired which is even worse.

Jack gently squeezes his shoulder and tugs. Gabriel’s pretty brown eyes look bruised as he lets his gaze fall and wordlessly turns to follow the Commander. It is an unsettling experience, especially after his last encounter with Gabriel shortly after he had finally been brought back from his mission in Texas.

Then, a good week back, he had almost been ready to throw something at Jack. Now, he just trots after him like a docile puppy.

When they are back in their rooms, an awkward silence descends upon them. Jack slowly starts pulling his arms out of the sleeves of his duster while eying Gabriel who looks around the well-known space with a weird little expression on his face.

“Do you… need anything?” Jack asks eventually when Gabriel just stands there and takes his surroundings in. Gabriel’s head swivels around immediately, looking at him undressing with a frown.

“You not gonna go back to work?” he grunts and finally gets to moving himself, toeing off his boots and pushing them vaguely in the direction of the door where all their boots are piled.

Jack can feel himself relax at that little bit of familiarity. He hadn’t even realized how much he had waited for Gabriel to do something… _anything_ as he usually did.

“Nah,” he murmurs drawn out, putting his duster up on a clothes hanger and bending to get his boots off, glancing at Gabriel beneath his elbow as he works. “I took the rest of the week off for you.”

He can see the frown on Gabriel’s face at the announcement, like he is not happy about the news, but before Jack can ask, it smooths out again and Gabriel’s face becomes considerably more tender.

“Thanks, Jackie. I appreciate it.”

Jack takes a deep breath and comes towards him on socked feet, making sure he sees him this time before putting both hands on Gabriel’s shoulders, gripping tight but not bruising.

“That’s what friends are for, right? I’m here. Also if you… want to talk. Or not. I’m no shrink, I don’t think I can do much.”

Gabriel makes a sound like he wants to laugh at him, but all that comes out is a weak little ‘hhh’ before the corners of his mouth start twitching downward and his face crumples. He leans in and Jack just has a second to process this before Gabriel is on him, hugging him tightly and pressing his face into the crook of Jack’s neck.

Jack closes his eyes and hugs him back just as tightly, hand first doing an awkward little patting motion on his lover’s back before he gets his shit together and pets him in slow up-and-down strokes.

“This’ll be fine. Really. We’ll get you back on your feet, Gabe. The world’s not ending with this, alright?”

Gabriel nods wordlessly.

.o.

A week after Gabriel has been admitted to active duty once again, Jack finds himself in the position of sitting behind his naked lover and slowly dragging fingers along his thickly muscled thighs.

“You’re good,” he rasps into his ear. Gabriel has put his head back against his shoulder and has closed his eyes, but his face looks tense. Stony. His hands are next to his hips, balled into fists and looking like he is having to put extensive work into keeping them where they are.

“You want me to do anything?”

“Yeah,” Gabriel croaks. “Don’t fucking tickle me like that.”

Jack huffs a small laugh and instead of his fingertips, presses his palms against Gabriel’s thighs. He rubs up and down firmly until he can feel the twitching muscles relax.

“Better?”

“Yeah.”

He hums. He still doesn’t know what happened in detail, but he doesn’t think anymore that he wants to know, really. 

He grabs Gabriel’s knees, resting his hands there, then travels up again.

“Had a tense week, huh?” he rasps and Gabriel exhales audibly, his body sinking a bit more firmly against him, relaxing at the way this sounds all familiar. Like _before_. He hums softly in confirmation, and when Jack simply takes his soft cock and squeezes it lovingly, he doesn’t even bat an eyelash.

“I think I can help with that,” Jack continues. He’s not got the best voice for this kind of sweet talk, but Gabriel has always seemed to really enjoy the rough rumble. He squeezes again and he can feel at least a bit of life returning to the silky cock he’s holding.

He turns his head into Gabriel’s neck and shoulder and begins to suck kisses into his skin as he reaches to the side and grabs the pumping bottle of slick. They have all the time in the world this evening, their communicators turned off and Ana alerted to them no longer being on duty.

Jack doesn’t have to think about anything but how to tease a nice and easy orgasm out of his lover.

Gabriel makes new sounds when Jack jerks him off with a slick hand. Soft little bitten off whimpers that do not necessarily sound happy with the situation but not distressed either.

It takes longer than usual for his dick to become hard, but eventually it slides through Jack’s fingers nice and firm, the tip glistening in a way that looks very, very tasty.

Gabriel grunts when Jack inches two fingers to drag across his hole, hand jerking to clench around his wrist in a bone crushingly tight grip.

There is a pause there where nobody seems to even breathe as Jack prepares to slowly let go of him, but eventually Gabriel’s grip loosens. He still holds on but does not prevent his lover to gently drag slick little rounds around his pouty hole, then easing his way inside.

“That’s it,” Jack croons right into Gabriel’s ear as he pants like a dog, every now and then whimpering high and brittle. “You’re doing so well… gonna get you off nice and easy and then we’re gonna watch something stupid…”

Gabriel barks out a little laugh at that, murmuring something like ‘got a way with words, boyscout…’ but he does get a bit more into the action, loosening and relaxing until Jack can jerk him easily with wet slides of his hand along his cock, teasing him towards his peak.

Yeah. They’re gonna get through this.


	8. Gust/Builder

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gust/Builder – loose cont. of B27F2 – ace nb Builder; masturbation fantasies; masturbation; cbt (cock and ball torture aka Gust gets his balls squeezed in a fist); orgasm denial; non negotiated kink – It’s been two weeks since Gust has had release.

Gust looks… spectacularly uncomfortable sitting on the Builder’s bed in their farm. He looks nervous, glancing around, face twisting slightly as he does not seem sure what to think about being here. Alone. With them.

There’s a twitch to his mouth that looks desperate to the point of deranged when the Builder finally nudges the door to the bathroom open from the little crack they had watched Gust from. Gust immediately jerks to attention, standing up like he’d been perched on a live wire.

The Builder lifts their hands as if trying to calm down a spooked cotton llama.

“Sit down,” they command gently, and Gust plops back onto his seat like all the strings have been cut. He looks miserably up at them, hands clasped between his bouncing knees.

The Builder smiles, wearing a soft looking but very sensibly buttoned-up pyjama. It doesn’t look sexy in the least. Gust looks more confused and conflicted by the minute.

“Listen,” he starts, eyes jumping anywhere but at the advancing Builder. “I’m not… I’m not sure what you want to do. Why I’m even here.”

“Hmm,” they murmur, sitting down next to him, close enough to feel his body warmth and smirking when he lightly leans away from them. “Why, I want to do the same that you want to do.”

Gust looks almost pained. There is a fine line of sweat springing up along his hairline. He glances at the Builder, then away again. Oh dear… the couple weeks of abstinence have really taken a toll on him. It looks like they have taken quite a few steps backwards.

The Builder pouts, the corners of their mouth twitching down as they reach over and place a gentle hand on his knee, squeezing firmly.

“Are you alright? You can go whenever you like… you know that, right?”

He nods slowly. He looks like he’s between a rock and a hard place. The Builder tuts and leans over, placing their head on his shoulder. He stiffens for just a second before he finally starts relaxing. He exhales deeply, back curling a little from the very straight line it is in.

“I… I’m sorry. I don’t know why I am so tense.”

“Because you haven’t been able to come in a while,” the Builder says matter-of-factly and it startles Gust into a barked laugh, looking away as heat starts to light his face up like a lantern.

“Uh… I suppose so.”

“And you’re here because I invited you. We haven’t seen each other in a while. I’ve been busy and then you’ve been busy. But now we’re here and I really want to play.”

“I don’t know… how to…”

God, he is cute.

The Builder still remembers those first few weeks of their acquaintance where Gust had seemed like the cool, no-nonsense kind of guy. They would have never imagined he could become this sweet blubbery fool when all alone with them in their bedroom.

“It’s really, really easy,” they tell him gently, their hand wandering from his knee up his thigh, squeezing it. There is not much meat on Gust overall. He’s mostly bones and sharp angles, but the Builder doesn’t mind. Everybody’s different after all, right?

“You just sit there… and listen… and let me do all the work,” they croon into his ear, blowing warm air against it. Gust is so still, it wouldn’t surprise the Builder if he had stopped breathing altogether.

“Are you sure this is… alright?”

“Why shouldn’t it be?” The Builder’s hand is gently plucking at Gust’s fly, teasing the button open and playing with the zipper. Gust, while stiff as a board, at least does not try to dissuade them from slowly tugging the zipper down, down, down.

“I-I-I mean… you’re… you’re a...sexual…”

He trails off, lifting his hand and smacking it against his face like he just now realizes how utterly foolish he is being.

“I’m sorry,” he groans into his palm. “I don’t know why I am like this…”

“It’s alright. You’re just really nervous again after so long apart. it’s kinda cute, really.”

Builder smiles, head still on Gust’s shoulder. While he seems to be absolutely torn on what to think about this whole thing, his cock is all on board.

It’s warm beneath the silky fabric of his expensive shorts, and it just needs a bit of teasing with the elastic band to have it leaping out. Builder sighs softly, looking at it. It is definitely a pretty cock. Nice and flushed with an almost cherry red tip when they curl their fingers around the shaft and carefully pull down on the foreskin.

Gust has become impossibly quiet, staring down at their hand around his cock.

.o.

“Should I tell you what I thought about last time I masturbated?” the Builder asks blunt, voice pitched low as if they were aroused by this.

Gust knows for a fact they aren’t… that they are interested and excited, but really only want to _play_, but… he finds himself nodding anyway.

He is morbidly fascinated by the thought of them masturbating. They have hinted at it every now and then, getting him impossibly hot and bothered, but never… extrapolated on the whole… affair.

“I thought of you…” they admit softly, and it is so confusing and arousing that he makes a weird little noise between a squawk and a moan.

They chuckle and suddenly move, sliding from perching next to him to kneeling on the floor between his feet. They are looking up and he is staring down and he doesn’t understand anything anymore.

_You don’t have to understand_, they had said when the two of them had sat on a little bench looking over the water, wondering if they should try this whole relationship thing. _You just have to feel good. And I have to feel good. And when one says ‘stop’, then the other one stops. It’s easy as that._

It really sounds easy, if he is being honest, but his mind is analytical and just tries to… tries to _understand_.

They don’t care about that. They never have – and as he was stuck in contemplating this, they have managed to pull his balls out as well, gently cradling them in one work-roughened palm.

“I think about how pretty your cock looks,” they murmur, leaning in as if ready to suckle it right into their cruel little mouth, but instead just leaning their head against his thigh, looking up at him. They know exactly how teasing they are. How unreasonable.

And how Gust has no willpower at all to deter them. He hangs onto every word from their lips as they tighten their loose grasp around his shaft and begin to slowly jerk him.

“I think about it when I use one of my toys… Of maybe turning around and going on all fours… letting you slot up right behind me…”

They can imitate being aroused quite well when they just want to. He presses his hand against his mouth, staring down, cock throbbing in their slippery grip after they thoroughly licked their fingers.

“I like to imagine your big warm cock sliding into me… hitting all the right places…” they croon, other hand fondling his balls. “And I like even more that it’s just in my head… that I can make you do anything in there and you’ll obey like a needy little puppy…”

They smile at him all sweet and caring while he closes his eyes and whines high against his hand, hips twitching, jerking, trying to fuck their hand and get that release he’s been waiting for for two long, long weeks…

Yet suddenly their grip around his balls becomes crushingly hard. His breath stutters, hitches, just stops coming as his eyes fly open, staring ahead, pain radiating from his crotch as his balls get crushed and his orgasm immediately jerks into unobtainable reaches.

He jerks his head down, staring at the Builder, and they simply smile at him, a high flush on their cheeks.

“Oh… I like that,” they murmur and slowly let go of his poor balls.

He wheezes a breath, head throbbing in time with his aching testicles that immediately feel swollen to the size of balloons.

Denied his orgasm in the cruelest way possible.

Oh no… he… likes that too...


	9. Reaper/Soldier76

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reaper/Soldier76 – cont. B27F8 – watersports; bladder desperation; embarrassment – this time, Gabriel does it on purpose.

Jack likes fucking Gabriel while he’s lying down, but there is just this lack of _oomph_ behind his thrusts that gets him really going. Get him really desperate.

It’s a good start into a nice dicking session, and he knows that Gabriel gets off on it just as much; being crushed into the bedding by Jack’s weight while his cock reaches deep but not as deep as it could.

It’s an appetizer most times, and sometimes the main course when they are both too sleepy to do anything else, Gabriel just rolling on his belly and vaguely spreading his thighs to let Jack’s cock nose between his fat cheeks in the hopes of finding his hole all on itself.

This time is not such a time. They’re both wide awake, and Gabriel becomes nice and needy when Jack pushes so heavily onto his back that it makes it difficult for him to pull a proper breath.

“God, you’re so hot,” Jack grunts when he finally pulls back, pushing himself up to slip his wet cock out of Gabriel’s pliant, hot body. Gabriel wheezes, but Jack is pretty sure he would complain about his stupid dirty talk if he had any breath left in him to do so.

Jack grabs his hips and pulls, urging his ass up and back so he can better reach, and _zing_, his cock goes back where it belongs, nice and deep and _fuck_, Gabriel is perfect.

Jack had been terrified that Gabriel would want to break things off after last week’s… happenings, but while he had been embarrassed to a point of tears, he did not avoid Jack any more or less than usual.

Gabriel is very feline in that regard.

Jack’s fingers slide along Gabriel’s ribcage, farther down. God, he hasn’t been able to stop thinking about last week. The look on Gabriel’s face when he’d lost his desperate battle with his bladder.

The minute twitch of abject relief followed by humiliation when finally he could relief himself after having to hold it for so long.

The hot wet rush of Gabriel’s urine soaking into Jack’s own pants as he was perched above him, tickling.

He just can’t stop thinking about having been the one to do it. To make Gabriel loose control over his bodily functions like he probably hasn’t since he was a toddler.

Jack thinks about it now as he rails him from behind, nice and easy for now to get him to relax back up for his cock after getting pulled into the new position.

The one time he dared to try and tickle Gabriel again during fucking, Gabriel had been rather adamant about him not doing shit like that anymore, so now he can just… yearn… fingers moving, trailing, with just enough pressure to be shy of tickling as he fantasizes about Gabriel losing it again just for him.

Of pissing himself. Maybe while Jack fucks him, even.

They hadn’t talked about it of course. He doesn’t think he would have lived through that particular conversation. Gabriel’s expression after his cock dribbled out the last bit of piss had been rather… discouraging of any mention of the whole thing.

It is a shame, really. A damn shame.

Which is why what happens next is so much more surprising to Jack, whose hips stutter to a halt as he hears Gabriel whine softly: “I gotta go…”

“...Wha?” he slurs, brain immediately jumping to Gabriel’s full bladder, cock jerking at the mere thought before he has to wrestle himself back down. Gabriel probably means something completely…

“I gotta piss…”

Jack’s hips give a little jerk at that, grinding in, digging his cock against the squishy hot walls of Gabriel’s insides before he calms down again, pressed to the fat ass as close as humanly possible.

Both their breathing is very loud in the room. Gabriel is hiding his face away, and in the gloom it is impossible to tell if he is flushing, but Jack knows for a fact that he is because damn he is hot as a furnace right now.

“Alright…” he says slowly. He has to remind himself to blink. To swallow. His fingers slowly flex around Gabriel’s hips as he tries to figure out what all of this is about all of a sudden.

“Okay…” he slowly starts to let go of Gabriel’s hips but one of Gabriel’s hands jerks back and curls around his wrist, holding on like a vice.

They’re quiet again, just breathing, just feeling each other out without words as Jack’s mind and libido seem to run wild just with the knowledge that Gabriel has got to take a leak. He hasn’t been able to see him go to the bathroom without getting a stiffie all damn week.

“Okay,” he whispers again, though nothing is okay because he doesn’t understand a damn thing that’s happening, but Gabriel is pulling his hand back onto his hips and Jack follows suit because how could he not? He’s balls deep in his lover who just told him he got to take a piss…

Nothing happens for a few more seconds, Jack just feeling Gabriel’s insides like a vice around his cock, nice and hot and trembling, and then it finally happens.

Gabriel makes a soft little sound, half sigh half squeak, and then Jack hears the unmistakable sound of a stream of water hitting fabric. Only that it isn’t water. It is Gabriel pissing straight onto their bed.

They got to stop doing this shit and prepare for it like sensible people but really? Jack doesn’t care a flying fuck about that right now; not when he can feel the wetness around his knees as his lover wets himself while he is getting fucked.

Gabriel is hiding his head beneath both arms, and Jack can’t keep still any longer. He starts moving again, sharper and harder than before, his orgasm suddenly very present and imminent as he listens to the tinkling of the puddle growing, and feels the squeeze of Gabriel’s muscles around him.

He fucks him through Gabriel pissing himself, eyes fixed between his shoulder blades. He kind of wants to… reach beneath him and get his hand under the hot stream but he doesn’t know if that is a bit too freaky, so he doesn’t do it.

When Gabriel finally stops peeing, there is a decidedly wet component to them fucking as the mattress has trouble soaking up the copious amounts of urine.

Fuck they have to change it out again. They have to find a way to dispose of it without anybody being any the wiser.

This has been a horrible horrible idea but also so goddamn _hot_.

Gabriel is sobbing as he gets fucked hard enough to jostle his body, Jack’s cock feeling as hard as a diamond. 

“I love you so fucking much,” he grits out between clenched teeth, emphasizing each word with a deep, sharp thrust of his hips.

Gabriel hiccups something out that Jack can’t hear, but then he squeezes around him like a vice and he understands anyway.

_I’mma come!_

Goddamn, the _possibilities_. Jack loves him. So fucking much.


	10. Reaper/Soldier76

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reaper/Soldier76 – cont. B26F2 – short mention of abortion in the beginning; body horror; pregnant sex; possession...?; there’s a demon spawn what even... – Gabriel has no option but to keep the... baby?

Gabriel’s… pregnancy (???) brings difficulties, of course. For one, he has to be taken off the active roster, which is a difficult thing to do in an organisation as small as Overwatch has become. For another, Gabriel does not want any of the others to know he is… ah… pregnant. (Which… still… ????)

They might be old dogs by now, but the SEP still keeps them fit and running, and for a man as relentlessly active as Gabriel, being cooped up in their rooms for most of the day is a special kind of torture.

The fact that the thing in his belly is not even… human (they try not to think about that if they are being honest) makes things even more complicated. Jack had not thought Gabriel could even get as pale as he had gone when Angela had announced the tail on whatever was currently nesting in a kind of womb inside him.

Of course Gabriel would have wanted to get rid of the creature immediately, but even before the words had left his mouth, Angela’s facial expression had made it very clear that that was not an option.

“It has latched on to quite a few vital organs, Gabriel…”

And it grew. Fast.

Three months in, Jack finds himself sitting and staring at Gabriel instead of reading the godawful report McCree had put together somehow. There is something disturbingly alluring about his partner sitting on their bed, slowly rubbing oil into the skin of the huge belly he is by now carrying in front of him.

It is… big and firm and has Jack by the nuts with an embarrassingly primal kind of pride of ‘I put that in there’.

But did he, really?

His eyes travel towards the pictures that Angela had taken just the day before. The creature curled up in there does not remotely look human which is strangely enough more reassuring than if he had a baby with some kind of tail inside himself.

It is black with a sharp, white face, curled up in itself all sweet and docile. Every now and then, Gabriel can feel it move about as it seems to look for a better position. Despite the fact that it has sharp talons on feet and hands, it has yet to even nick Gabriel from inside. 

It’s almost like it is benevolent.

Jack can’t help but feel strangely… attached to the spindly limbed little imp. In the picture Angela had taken, it has its long tail curled up between its legs and is holding it just beneath the arrowhead tip with one hand.

It’s… really kind of cute. He hasn’t said a thing to Gabriel, of course. He thinks his lover might rip his head off if he expressed any kind of affection towards the creature that had somehow hijacked Gabriel’s body.

But still…

“Oh…”

His attention snaps back to Gabriel at the soft sound, and he watches as he frowns and hovers a big hand over his belly, looking unsure if he can touch his own body which is kind of sad in its own little way.

“What’s up?” Jack murmurs, getting up and joining him on the bed. He watches as Gabriel just puts the hand high on his belly, a frown on his face. His pecs have always been nice and plush, but there is no change to them as far as Jack can tell. Whatever the creature in Gabriel’s belly needs, it is not milk.

“It’s moving…” Gabriel murmurs. Jack reaches over without thinking, just putting his palm right underneath Gabriel’s. As Gabriel pulls in a sharp breath, Jack makes a soft sound of wonder, feeling a gently nudge against the palm of his hand.

It takes him a while to realize that Gabriel is looking at him with a weird little expression.

“What?”

“Are you… enjoying this?” Gabriel asks with so much doubt that Jack can feel color rise to his face in a heartbeat, but he also refuses to back down, so he shrugs his shoulders, hand starting to pet slow circles into Gabriel’s belly.

“I mean… I don’t hate this.”

Gabriel stares at him, slowly blinking.

“What?” he asks defensively. “It’s weird but it’s not hurting you, right? And I have to admit that you look… really kinda hot right now.”

Gabriel makes a sound of disgust, digging his elbow into Jack’s side to push him away, but the way he quickly looks away shyly tells Jack that he’s hit something.

He pushes closer despite the painful elbow under his ribs, and kisses just behind Gabriel’s ear.

“Never thought I’d ever get to fuck a pregnant person,” he murmurs. 

Gabriel scoffs. “And you never will,” he grunts, but it sounds unsure. Jack smirks, giving Gabriel a push and urging him to lie back. They haven’t fucked since the unlikely announcement, and Jack is very ready to break that dry spell.

Gabriel struggles pro-forma but soon enough gets with the flow and tries to help in struggling out of clothes, but his huge belly seems to always get in the way of things.

He wonders, as he lets Gabriel struggle and squirm and impatiently try to find a position he is comfortable with, if he, too, is not quite as put out with the whole situation as he likes to makes Jack believe.

Gabriel sure as hell is looking like a very happy customer as he finally is on all fours, heavy belly swinging beneath him, Jack fucking him slow and methodical on three fingers.

Jack can’t help but hold Gabriel’s belly at the sides, fingers spread out to just feel how _much_ there is as he carefully sinks his cock into his lover. 

There are a few moments of bliss; just them enjoying the feeling of Jack finally back where he belongs, stretching Gabriel nice and wide and filling him with cock the way Gabriel usually needs at least every other day.

But then something happens. Jack can feel it against his palm a split second before Gabriel pauses in rocking himself back onto his cock and instead whines with a punched-out high-pitched voice: “J-Jack?!”

“Yeah…” he murmurs roughly, hand following the motion of life inside Gabriel’s belly, feeling how it seems to all but undulate inside his body. “I can feel it…”

“Feels strange,” Gabriel slurs. He sounds drunk all of a sudden, his insides milking Jack for all that he’s worth.

“Maybe… maybe it’s its tail,” Jack rasps but he’s not sure Gabriel even hears him. He is moaning softly, almost a wail as he balls his hands into the pillow and begins rocking himself again, more vigorously this time.

“Feels good,” he says deliriously. He sounds out of it, groaning in tandem with the lashes of movement Jack can feel against his petting, questing hands. He’s almost more interested in following along whatever this is than fucking Gabriel at this point, but it doesn’t seem to matter because Gabriel is making quite a good effort at pleasuring himself with Jack’s body.

Gabriel’s voice climbs steadily, fingers clawing at whatever they can reach. Whatever the creature inside him is doing, it is pushing him into an almost frenzy, his insides becoming feverishly hot and clamping down on his cock like a greedy, sucking mouth.

Jack is just panting, holding on for the ride, confused and aroused and actually a little bit scared.

He’s pathetically grateful when Gabriel finally comes with a cry like a cat in heat, rough and scratchy; really more a yowl than anything else.

In the ensuing silence, Jack can feel how the creature inside his big belly is curling back in on itself, sweet like nothing had ever happened.

“Holy shit…” he groans.


	11. McCree/Hanzo

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> McCree/Hanzo – cont B26F3 – Frenemies; subby!McCree; topping from the bottom; Hanzo ‘haughty bitch’ Shimada – Hanzo and denial are the OTP herein.

McCree takes the call at the second ring. Hanzo is almost impressed by that. The grunt that follows sounds very suspiciously bored.

“What is it, Shimada. I’m busy.”

“With what?” Hanzo sneers as he looks at himself in the mirror, slowly turning from left to right to make sure that, yes, he is still in tip-top shape and looks stunningly good.

“Shavin’,” comes the slightly distracted answer, and Hanzo pulls in a sharp, shocked breath.

“Don’t,” he hisses, fingers curling tighter around the phone. He can see his own face as it has immediately shut down. There is a moment of stunned silence on the other end before McCree finally drawls:

“Why?”

“I don’t allow it.”

“You don-” there is an incredulous bark of a laugh and then the sound of scissors very close to the phone just to make sure Hanzo hears him trimming his beard. It makes his blood boil.

“McCree!” he barks and the scissors stop again.

“Fucking Hell, Shimada. What is the _matter _with you?!” McCree grunts. “Only because we’ve… uh…” he falters for a moment, and Hanzo can practically see it rattling in his head as he searches for a way to phrase what they’ve been doing. In the end he settles on a simple: “Only because we’ve been fucking doesn’t mean you can ring me up at the dead of night and give me goddamn orders.”

Hanzo’s eyes slide over to the clock. Quarter past ten. Hardly the ‘dead of night’.

“Come over here,” he orders haughtily. He can hear the clatter of McCree finally putting down the clippers on the edge of the sink.

“Why should I?” McCree drawls but Hanzo knows he is already getting on his way.

“Just to make sure you’re not doing any mistreatment to my property,” Hanzo replies calmly, opening the doors to his rooms and sticking his head out, glancing in the direction McCree will come trudging from.

There is a wheeze and then McCree’s low voice hissing at him: “Fuck you, Shimada.”

Hanzo smirks and disconnects the call when McCree comes around the corner, wearing just some flannel pyjama bottoms, flaunting the gloriously _hairy_ rest of him in the darkened corridors of the base at night.

Yes… he intends to get fucked. 

McCree’s face is pinched as he comes closer, as if he’s bitten into a lemon when he looks Hanzo up and down and finally rasps: “What’s up with that shitty cat-got-the-cream look on your face, Shimada.”

Hanzo doesn’t reply. He reaches out and grabs the front of McCree’s pyjama bottoms, pulling him inside.

His mood sours a little, and he murmurs while fingering the waistband of the bottoms as the door slides shut behind them: “Where’s your belt, McCree?”

McCree looks at him like he’s lost his mind, speaking slowly as if to a child: “I’m wearing my pyjamas, you crazy motherfucker.”

Hanzo scoffs in disgust and pulls McCree towards the bed.

“That’s no excuse. I want you to bring it with you next time.”

McCree wheezes, but Hanzo can see that he will do as he’s been told because when it comes down to it, Jesse McCree is a surprisingly submissive man. It had been a pleasure to find that broad submissive streak running through his thick, hairy body.

Even if the person attached to it has a lot to be desired… in Hanzo’s opinion... 

He realizes that McCree has been staring at him just with his mouth slightly hanging open, and that Hanzo has been checking him out the whole time, hands slowly gliding across his hairy chest and hirsute belly. He snatches his arms back and turns around.

“Get those ridiculous pants off,” he instructs, and McCree murmurs something but does not outright insult him this time. He slides deliciously easy into his mindset. Hanzo wonders if he’s just such a natural submissive or whether McCree has been trained.

Hanzo grabs one of his own belts; thinner than McCree’s and shorter, but it will have to do. He’ll have to be careful not to hurt him. Best would be to get a collar and leash for next time, but that would mean to admit that he is planning these things a couple days in advance before calling on his… comrade in arms to come and alleviate his itches.

McCree’s big brown eyes widen in alarm when he stands up from pushing down his pyjama bottoms, but he does not protest as Hanzo slips the belt around his throat and gives an experimental tug.

“Hn. It will do,” Hanzo concludes with a cool gaze. It fascinates him that McCree wouldn’t trust him as far as he could throw him when in a mission setting (hell… not even during training exercises), but with a belt around his throat and the end of it held in Hanzo’s fist, he does move along quite nicely.

Hanzo gets on all fours and Jesse has to struggle to follow suit quick enough when the belt draws tight around his thick throat.

He doesn’t need any instructions when Hanzo is presenting like that, knees angled apart to make sure the light is catching the wet gleam of lube between his cheeks.

McCree’s hands curl around his hips. He shuffles closer, leaning across Hanzo’s back just to put a bit of slack into the pull of the belt, and Hanzo turns his head to glance back at him; the big, hairy American whose tongue is currently all but lolling from his head. He looks like a dog and he smells like one, too, but Hanzo can’t make himself insult him when he is sliding his cock home and filling him so, so well.

His eyes roll up into his head. He thinks about McCree’s hairy ass on his face; how he could have suffocated in that stink and maybe even thanked McCree for it (or probably not… it would just go to his head).

He thinks about his thoughts back then; about keeping McCree sleeping in his bed so he could take a sniff whenever he would like.

McCree thrusts and Hanzo tugs involuntarily on the belt in his hand. The rough gurgle from behind him is impossibly hot.

“You’ll stay here tonight,” he orders breathlessly and angles his ass back, meeting McCree’s meaty thrusts. “I want you again tomorrow, McCree.”

McCree only wheezes in response. His fingers spasm around Hanzo’s hips, but his thrusts never falter. They are slow and hard, hips slapping against hanzo with meaty thwacks that seem to touch something primal in his brain. He can at least feel himself becoming all... mushy and wonderful.

Hanzo tugs sharply on the belt.

“Harder!” he orders and McCree follows suit. He shuffles his knees a bit apart and that has the added bonus of his balls beginning to swing and slap into Hanzo.

Every point of touch is rough and scratchy. McCree stinks like he’s been too lazy to take a shower after exercises earlier, and Hanzo could cry with frustration about why this disgusting American should be so… so… so damn sexy.

He groans and lets his head hang, pressing his forehead into the pillows and pulling meanly on the belt.

“Harder!” he howls while McCree has to bend over him like one dog breeding another, wheezing for breath and trying to grunt fuck him still like the surprisingly obedient boy he is.

McCree is a lot better to get along with when he doesn’t open his mouth.


	12. Lúcio/Akande

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lúcio/Akande – cont B26F5 – cbt; big dick humiliation; d/s; massive insertion/belly bulge – Akande is very shy in private. At least when it’s about one lil DJ.

Lúcio is kneeling before him and swinging that delicious little bubble ass from side to side as one would a treat in front of a starving dog.

“Do it! C’mon, big guy!” he cajoles. Akande wants to. He really does. But he can’t.

He is frozen to his place, just able to stare as Lúcio arches his back sinuously and pushes his ass up even more; showing off a bit of the loose gape that he’s fucked his hole into. Akande knows. He’s been there when… when…

Oh goodness. He presses a hand to his face, trying not to think of the sight of Lúcio somehow managing to fuck his own fist into himself. His ears are burning. He can’t believe the innocent little frog would ever… that he even could…

Akande feels like the worst kind of person. Despite all the things he has done, seeing Lúcio do these… things to his body just so he will be able to take Akande’s grotesque cock is… ah…

“What’re you doing?” Lúcio whines. He glances back over his shoulder. The room is well lit. There are two cameras. Akande’s little lover wants to see every minute of this. Wants to be able to enjoy it at a later date, too. Akande can see the delicious flush to Lúcio’s dark skin. He looks absolutely edible.

He wonders if his face looks as clueless as he feels because Lúcio makes a soft, wheezing sound and reaches back. He grasps the cheeks of his plump little ass and pulls them apart wide without any shyness… or decorum, to be quite honest.

Akande’s eyes zero in on the wet glisten of his hole. It is impossibly soft looking. Buttery. The gape doesn’t seem like much, but Akande had seen how he had easily taken his own fist. Still…

“Have you forgotten how to use that big thing?” Lúcio needles when Akande is still frozen to the spot. “Has it been so long since you were allowed to cram it into someone?”

Akande bites his lower lip. He can feel himself flush in embarrassment, the low simmering heat in his belly becoming a thick magma burn as he slowly curls a hand around his cock and lifts it some.

Lúcio is… uncomfortably close, of course. He can’t often dick someone with a cock like his. He definitely has never met anybody as brutally forward about it as this little DJ who sees him moving his cock and immediately stops presenting in favor of whipping around and grasping it himself.

Akande lets go as if he’s been burned. Lúcio never said as much but it just… it feels like Akande’s body belongs to him now, and if Lúcio wants to touch his property, he can’t…

“You’re such a good boy,” Lúcio says suddenly, looking up at Akande with his gentle big eyes. “You’re really different from when you’re out there holding your grand speeches…”

Akande swallows hard. He tries to come up with apologies, but Lúcio is already dropping the topic and looking down at the massive cock he is holding in his little hand. He lifts it slowly to test its weight, and the face he pulls should not get Akande es desperately needy as it does.

“What even is this supposed to be…” he can hear Lúcio murmur but since it wasn’t really directed at him, he remains quiet.

Lúcio looks up at him again, then lets go of his cock to let it drop heavily back down against one of his thighs.

“It can’t even stand on its own. Are you sure you’re hard? Maybe you’re impotent or something…” Lúcio says these very mean words very gently, and Akande can only stare and gape. He knows that his cock is just… it is just too big… but nobody has ever dared to talk to him like this. It is humiliating. And exciting.

“I am… sorry,” he says finally. Lúcio smiles at him, and the big of anxiety that wanted to make him feel unsure about all of this just melts away.

“You don’t have to be sorry. It’s okay. I know it’s not your fault having such a big useless dick.” Lúcio has knelt up, curling one arm around Akande’s neck. He mouths at his chin with those soft soft lips he has, as his other hand does something a lot meaner: it slaps Akande’s cock.

He gasps, his whole body jerking. He feels like he is lighting up from the inside, all kinds of nerves flaring that have nothing to do with his poor dick being slapped but still insist that they are in pain.

Lúcio smiles at him like a little angel and does it again. There is no remorse in his body language. He doesn’t like sorry for hurting Akande, and Akande… just takes it, gasping and trying to fold in on himself but not daring to because Lúcio tells him with a sharp little warning tone: “Stay.”

He is just a big toy for this kid to play with. If Lúcio wants to insult his cock and tell him how ugly and grotesque it is… how useless in pleasing anybody because it is just too big… he just takes it and nods and whispers apologies while his body feels like it is burning up from the inside, a steady stream of sticky pre-cum dripping to the bed.

If Lúcio wants to pinch his sensitive nipples and crush his big breeder balls in a fist, he thanks him like a good boy and tries to keep his sobbing to a minimum.

His brain is mush. He tries to grasp a coherent thought but Lúcio keeps pushing and pushing and pushing. At one point he _actually_ pushes, and Akande just follows the lead and lies down on his back, watching as Lúcio crawls all over him, rubbing and sniffing and licking.

The kid treats him like _he_ is the snack; as if Lúcio wasn’t the most delicious little morsel Akande had ever laid his eyes on, and the way he practically worships his body makes his mean little remarks about Akande’s cock a lot easier to bear.

Eventually, he lifts Akande’s cock, showing him again how impossibly big it is against his belly, then stands up and just… he just…

Akande reaches for him hectically, trying to grasp his hips, do something… anything… but he is left just staring as Lúcio slides down on him, rocking carefully but in no ways slowly.

He just takes Akande’s cock. And takes it. And takes it. There are dark spots starting to encroach on Akande’s vision as he stares in shock at Lúcio’s warm, silky little body simply opening up and letting him slip inside, inside, inside.

When Lúcio is finally sitting on him, there is an expression of absolute bliss on his face. He looks cross-eyed and out of it. There is a huge swell in his belly that Akande can’t make himself look at. He doesn’t know how Lúcio has managed to just… just take him.

Lúcio’s hands are trembling when he grasps for one of Akande’s, curling around his lax fingers and pulling him close. Akande wants to jerk his arm back as if burned when he realizes what Lúcio is about to do, but he has no will over his own body anymore.

He belongs to Lúcio.

He _belongs_. To Lúcio.

He sobs when Lúcio pushes his big hand across the bulge of his cock. He can feel the stupid thing jerk against his own palm, just separated by skin and muscle.

Lúcio grins, showing off his cute dimples, a few drops of sweat along his hairline.

“I love you,” he whispers. Akande has no idea where he finds the air when obviously his whole insides are just… just cock. Just full to the brim with cock.

Akande certainly doesn’t have any words. He can just lie there and watch helplessly.


	13. Klaus/Jesper

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Klaus/Jesper – Klaus movie – extreme size difference; soft big bottom boy; arrogant top; fisting – Jesper is nothing if not inventive.

Jesper kicks the washroom’s door open and steps out in all his naked glory with the same flair and self-assurance he does everything else in his life.

There is no inkling of shyness over the soft swell of his belly or the long twig like legs he sports. He stems his fists into his hips, angling his pelvis forward to show off the proud jut of his cock, pink with arousal and a glistening crown. It looks like he’s already put hand on himself while washing up. The same healthy flush is on his cheeks as he keeps grinning.

“Well?! What do you say?” He enunciates every word very clearly in an staccato like way. He’s proud of himself, and he should be in Klaus’ opinion. They don’t have anything as pink and soft as him anywhere on their island, and he tells him with gentle honesty: “Beautiful.”

It seems to be the wrong thing to say because Jesper kind of deflates and pulls a face.

“What’s that s’posed to mean? A guy like me is _handsome. Rugged_. I am an a-pex preda… tor…”

Jesper has finally thrown a glance into the dim, fire-warm bedroom that Klaus has called his own for decades now, and he falters when he sees the huge man standing there in an untied bathrobe. He can see the breadth of his chest; white thick fur between his pecs where also his huge beard is resting. A strong, firm belly from a life of living in the woods and providing for himself – and a cock like a tree trunk.

“Holy…” Jesper starts, then swallows the rest of it down. Klaus’ dark eyes flinch away to the side, his thick fingers curling around the edge of the robe as if wanting to tug it close again.

Jesper is thrown by how… ah… shy he looks all of a sudden. He is reminded that Klaus hasn’t had a partner since his wife kind of… well uh… huh. That’s awkward.

“Come on, come on! Let’s get a move on!” He shakes off the sudden, uncharacteristic flare of nerves as he comes closer in wide steps, making jerking shooing motions. Klaus doesn’t move an inch, just stares at him with a slow blink.

“I… hm… what?” he says eventually. Jesper comes to a stand right in front of him, chest to… uh… belly. He puts his hands in his hips again first, staring up at the lumberjack in exasperation before he sees the almost scared expression on his face and softens up some.

“I’ll show you a good time. No- A _grand_ time. Come on. It’ll be fun!” He tugs at the robe. Klaus seems unsure of the whole thing but slowly follows along anyway. He’s surprisingly docile, really.

.o.

Klaus is a rather intimidating man to be kneeling behind. Jesper has never had a fellow just this… this… _huge_.

He knows that if Klaus had any desire to do so he could grab him in one huge hand and snap him like a twig, but instead he kneels there obediently and only makes a soft little sound that is downright _cute_ when Jasper spreads the cheeks of his tight ass to get a look at his hole.

It’s small and tender looking and surrounded by white whirls of hair. Everything on this man is ridiculously majestic.

When Jesper curses and glances up, he can see a flush crawling down his back from beneath the snow white of his thick mane. Ah man. How can he be so shy?

He’s not saying a thing; not making a sound as Jesper starts to lap at him; but he does start to… vibrate. It only intensifies when Jesper easily slips oil slick finger into him. His hole might be small for a man his size, but… not for anybody else, really.

Still, he does not need to search for long, tongue poking from the corner of his mouth as he searches and searches and…

“Ah!” Klaus’ back arches downward and his head is thrown back. Jesper smirks and puts his cheek against his ass.

“There you go! We’re going to have so. Much. Fun.”

.o.

When starts begin to explode in front of Jesper’s vision, and his balls almost ache with how hard he comes, he is pretty sure that he’s never given it a person as good as he did to Klaus.

However, when he starts to come down and his softening cock slips from the butter soft, perfectly accepting hole, Klaus is still just gasping and shivering on the spot, reedy little whines coming from his throat.

Jesper blinks slowly as he lets himself sit back down on his haunches.

“Uh… did… you not come?” he says, brain still not quite online. He reaches between Klaus’ massive thighs, and the huge man makes a _squeak_ when his hand palms the dripping, fat crown of his monster cock.

“S-Sorry…” Klaus stutters. He is hot as a furnace, lightly rocking on the spot as he lets his head fall between his shoulders and visibly tries to calm down.

Jesper has never fooled around with a guy as docile as this man. Afterwards, he also wouldn’t been able to tell what has led him to do what he will be doing now. Maybe it was the sound of Klaus all but whimpering and haplessly trying to fuck Jesper’s hand. Or maybe it was the sight of his hole, wet and a bit red and swollen and so very, very soft and inviting looking…

But as Jesper keeps touching his huge, hot cock, he lifts his other hand and starts to feed him his fingers.

The slip in so… easily. So much so that he is pretty sure it takes Klaus until the fourth to realize that he is even being penetrated again.

“Oh…” he whispers, all soft and punched out. He turns his head and peeks over his shoulder at Jesper. He looks so shy with his big dark eyes.

Jesper can feel his own ears burning. He is not looking anywhere but at what he is doing. Tucking his thumb against his palm and curling his hand just a bit. It does not need much convincing to let his hand slip into him.

Klaus gasps, then _groans_. It is the first real reaction that Jesper has gotten from the huge man, and the rush it gives him is almost better than hanging onto his hips and fucking him like an ape while Klaus just patiently lets him.

He fumbles for the little bottle of oil and drizzles it generously across his arm. His own ears are burning now. They both very studiously do not look at each other as Jesper starts to push his slim forearm into Klaus’ body.

The big guy even has to shuffle his knees apart because of the new, unfamiliar feeling of fullness.

He groans again chest deep. It sounds like the rumbling of a bear.

“There you… there you go,” Jesper whispers, feeling an excited rush as he moves his arm and Klaus makes fucked out little sounds and begins to claw at the bedding like he hasn’t done when Jesper had mounted him.

He is hot and tight around Jesper’s arm; everything inside him silky and a bit wet. It is… impossibly exciting.

He feels like next time… next time he can _really_ fuck him stupid.


	14. Shoji/fem!Reader

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shoji/fem!Reader – cont B21F8 – tentacle sex; weird anatomy; Quirks; 69 position – If Shoji can use his Quirk, you can use yours.

It should be a lot more unnerving to be surrounded by a quivering cocoon of flesh, but you have trouble focusing on anything but Shoji’s cock pushing into you and dragging out slowly over and over again, the weird little bumps all over it rubbing along your nervously clenching walls before popping out one by one.

To be quite honest, you like Shoji’s special kind of embrace. It would be difficult to fuck him without enjoying the weird things that come with his body.

He dwarfs you to an almost unnerving degree. You clutch at his shoulders and keep your face pressed between his pecs, whimpering and sobbing but also using your legs wrapped around his hips to move yourself up and down his sturdy cock.

The weird soft bumps pushing into you and popping out again make stars explode beyond your tightly clenched eyelids. Your pussy feels impossibly swollen; just plump and tender and ready to be filled all over again even though the bumps along his cock make it feel impossibly fat inside you.

Shoji is rather quiet as he usually is. You have to pay attention to his body to know how much he enjoys himself; like the quivering of the thin skin between his tentacles, or the way he doesn’t seem to be able to quite control them anymore as they slip and slide jerkily against your skin, sometimes transforming into one limb or another without him realizing it.

One cheeky tip slips between the buttons of your pyjama top, and you arch your back when a greedy little mouth suctions to the painfully hard tip of your breast, nursing so hard that the curious sensation of his cock drilling you takes a backstep to the clear, delicious pain radiating off of your chest.

You make high-pitched little sounds whenever a small tongue drags along the underside of your nipple; it’s hot and slimy and has you in goosebumps within minutes.

You don’t even realize Shoji has popped you off of his dick until the empty clench of your cunt has you whine like a baby.

“Shhh… somebody’ll hear you,” one of his little mouths whispers against your ear. Your thighs tremble and you shake your head, trying to find his gloriously fat cock again, but all you get for your struggles is him slowly pushing you away and letting you back down to the ground. 

Your legs are shaking and don’t carry your weight, but that is no problem. It’s actually better with you kneeling before him and being eye to eye with his cock. You’ve never had the time to really sit and admire it, and the sight of the many little suction cups littered all over it has you only pause for a second before you try to ram it down your throat somehow.

Even Shoji’s tentacle mouth sounds breathless and disbelieving when it pops up next to your ear and croons: “You’re so hungry for it, aren’t you?”

You hum, eyes half open, staring up at him in a dreamy stupor. Your head is filled with some kind of mist. You just want to get fucked until you’re brain dead and have a good night’s sleep before the classes tomorrow.

As you stare up at him, you open your mouth slowly wide and start to elongate your tongue until it is wrapping around his cock again… and again… and again…

His reptilian eyes wide as he watches the spectacle, his coltish hips trembling with the need to move as the tip of your tongue manages to tickle his balls just-so.

“Oh… wow…” the mouth at your ear whispers while Shoji’s true throat makes some complicated clacking sounds.

All of a sudden, you are urged to pull back. You don’t want to, but he is insistent, so you slowly unwrap your tongue and let it loll down the front of your chest, waiting as to what he will do now.

You feel like you are slowly dripping onto the floor. Your cunt feels way too cold and empty. You want to be filled. You want to feel bloated. You want his cock to fill your belly until you feel bloated like after a good seafood meal.

Shoji is a good seafood meal.

He scoops you up and carries you towards his simple bed after all. You showing him what you can do with your Quirk must have changed his plans of trying out how much you two can get away with before someone notices.

Soon you find yourself on top of him, finally presented with his cock once more. You sigh and start to curl your sticky chameleon tongue around it once more, wriggling with happiness of being able to play with it once more.

You pause when his hands – his real ones – grab your ass and spread it. There is a rush of heat and embarrassment as you realize you are on top of him and he is inspecting your plump cunt while you suckle the tip of his cock.

You whine and try to twist away.

“Don… ‘ook,” you murmur indistinctly with your tongue still curled around his cock.

“Why not?” one of his tentacles asks. You can feel his hot breath against your labia and imagine his scary sharp teeth next to your tender pink flesh, but that only makes you gush more. The knowledge that he can _see_ your pussy working has you flush even hotter.

“Embarra’ing,” you whine. Your tongue curls tighter around his cock until you have it in a stranglehold and he hisses.

He bends his knees and puts his feet against the matt he’s lying on, but he does not try to move in your tight hold. You slowly relax your sticky tongue again, mouthing against his tip with a pout.

It all becomes better in an instant when you feel something nice and bumpy slipping into your cunt. It’s not as long or thick as the thing you’re currently nursing on, but it is not difficult to realize that he has formed one of his tentacles into a replica of his dick and is pushing it into you.

“Wow…” you can hear him murmur… somewhere. He must be studying up close how you look between your thighs and how it looks when your cunt is fed something nice, and you feel like you’re going to combust on the spot.

Just to spite him, you drag one finger against your tongue to get it nice and sticky wet and start searching between his helpfully opened thighs.

He jerks beneath you and tries to awkwardly twist away, but there is nowhere to go, and soon you are tickling his cute little hole while mouthing at the tip of his cock, tongue squeezing and relaxing rhythmically.

You’re in the best possible stalemate.

It gets even better when Shoji pushes a second replica cock into you; letting them push like pistons into your body, trying to somehow make up for their inferior size to the real thing you’re drooling all over.

And then it becomes _fantastic_ because he somehow has the genius idea to plant a greedy little mouth against your clit, and you feel like you’re floating. Your whole body is prickling and hot, muscles feeling like you’re going to melt into a puddle any second.

You feel like when you orgasm you’re going to get off like a firecracker. You can almost feel the smarmy grin of his little tentacle mouth against your clit, his long slimy tongue dragging against all those sensitive parts.

And then you explode.


End file.
